


For Her

by BlackVelvet42



Series: For Her [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Double Penetration, F/M, Face-Fucking, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Submission, Threesome, Voyeurism, With a bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 15:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11649390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42/pseuds/BlackVelvet42
Summary: “She's not going to answer.""And why is that?""Because I told her not to."





	For Her

It was pitch-dark.

“Computer, is the holodeck program running properly?”

“Affirmative.”

It seemed to be indoors. The air warm and still, no sounds to be heard. The floor solid and smooth under his feet.

“And who is in holodeck two at the moment?”

“Holodeck two is currently occupied by Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, and Lieutenant Paris.”

Well, _he_ certainly was. Didn't know where the others were, though.

What was he doing here anyway? He rarely spent his free time with Chakotay, even less with the Captain. And the both of them together? It was unheard of.

There'd been something in the way Chakotay had asked him to join them here tonight. Prompted him to get something to eat after the shift, shower up, dress casual, just relax. Something in his eyes, like he was being evaluated. It was hard to tell whether it was really an invitation or actually an order.

As his vision adjusted to the darkness, he noticed the light. Faint, because it was so far away. But the only fixation point in this void, so after taking a reassuring deep breath, that's where he headed.

The closer he moved, the clearer became the scene. At first, it was a suspicion, something his mind tried to evade, but when he was almost there, he couldn't deny what he saw. And he wasn't sure if he should turn and run, or call for security.

A narrow beam of light pierced the dark, illuminating the black, polished concrete floor, a studded leather armchair, and two people.

She was on her knees, her head hanging, tangled hair barely hiding the blood on her face. Hands tied behind her back. Breathing heavy. Naked.

And Chakotay, slumped lazily in the lavish chair, his chest bare and pants low on his hips, turning towards him with a smug smile.

“Perfect timing, Paris. We were just taking a break.”

Everything was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Captain?" he asked hesitantly, recognizing the obvious shift in power, but still clinging to the only structure he was familiar with.

“She's not going to answer,” Chakotay pointed out, smirking.

A cold shiver ran through him, but it was impossible to take his eyes off of her. With every external sign of rank and authority stripped away from her, she was – deliciously vulnerable.

"And why is that?" Almost too afraid to ask, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Because I told her not to." Chakotay's insolent grin widened and he studied his guest as the words sank in.

She didn't look like she was in any immediate danger. Her injuries, as far as he saw, were superficial. And she appeared calm, although visibly recovering after going through something he tried hard not to think about.

He dragged his gaze away and turned to Chakotay, keeping his voice down, but attempting to load some steel into it. "What have you done to her?"

Chakotay waved his hand, dismissing the implied accusation. "She had a good time. The more important question is, what are you going to do to her?"

The twitch in his pants was immediate and didn't go unnoticed. Chakotay smiled knowingly. “She's worth every second, trust me.”

How could he talk like this? She was, she was... the Captain! And why didn't she object? Why didn't she put an end to this madness and brig him for life?

The whole situation was like a bizarre act from another reality, but the pain written in her bruised body, the indignity of her exposed submission, and the thick smell of sex in the air were very real.

His shock and confusion seemed to amuse Chakotay.

“Oh hell, go on and ask her, if it bothers you that much. After all, perhaps it's polite to greet the lady you're going to stick your dick into." Chakotay got up and disappeared into the shadows. "But she's not going to like it.”

He rushed to her, dropping to one knee, and lifted her chin to examine her face. Her eyes were unfocused, but he noticed with relief that the blood was from a single cut on her lower lip, smudged over her cheek.

"Captain, are you alright? What happened?" he asked gently, untying her in haste.

Her voice came slurred, but the tone in it was very familiar. "Tom, you're spoiling my mood," she croaked and coughed. "I thought you'd be more... helpful."

Eyes widening in a slow understanding he reconsidered the whole scene as she rubbed the rope marks on her wrists.

Of course.

As twisted as it was, it made perfect sense. He'd always wondered about the chemistry between them, how they could be so natural, so balanced together. Like there had been a mutual agreement from the beginning, running deeper than protocol, knowing each other thoroughly and respecting the roles they'd been given.

But it was too intimate for him to participate in.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here. This is clearly something you and the Commander...”

“Shut up, Tom," she snapped, gripping his arm with surprising vigor. "I invited you here. Me. Now tell me what you want.”

Her palms came to his chest like they had touched his back and shoulders so many times during duty hours. But this time, she was caressing him in a way he'd only ever dreamed of. And he couldn't help his eyes dropping to her breasts and the darker shade between her thighs, drinking in the lush beauty of her if only for a sneak peek, swallowing hard.

A wicked smile crossed her face. “I recognize that look, Tom. You think I haven't seen it before?" Her fingers trailed down to the bulge in his pants and his eyelids fluttered closed. "You should've learned by now, I notice everything that goes on around the bridge,” she whispered into his ear and he shivered.

She stroked him firmly through the fabric, watching closely as his expression shifted and he licked his lips at the waves of pleasure beginning to wash over him. With two well-practiced moves, she had his pants open and her fingers around his throbbing hard-on.

The audacity of it simply froze him. His breathing hitching, the loud hammering of his heart filling his ears as her warm hand continued moving on him.

This wasn't happening. It was one of his persistent fantasies, with an odd feature of Chakotay observing them from somewhere out of sight. He would wake up right about now, with a mess in his bed.

But then she bent down and took him into her mouth and if he did have some honorable plans of cutting short her unexpected services, that moment had come and gone at warp speed.

The first strike of disbelief was instantly replaced by a flare of arousal, all reason and resistance fleeing him, leaving only the dizzying whirl of sensations.

It had been forever since anyone had done this to him, at least properly. And good god, did she master it.

Teasing twirls, gathering her saliva around his length for a smooth, warm motion. Taking him in inch by inch until he was sheathed all the way, his tip pressing against the back of her throat. Adding the blissful suction that made his hips jerk up, and picking up a pace just right to ride him towards a mind-blowing release.

“I can't just sit and watch this," came a frustrated, low voice from the darkness, making him shake out of the daze with its demanding tone. "Ass up, Captain.”

The swiftness with which she obeyed his command was incomprehensible. Pulling her mouth away and positioning herself on her hands and knees for him.

And his arrogance as he smacked her behind before shoving himself inside her with no consideration for her at all, was unimaginable. Like it was his right to do so whenever he felt like it. Like he'd done it a million times. Like he owned her.

Paralyzed by such nonchalant brutality, it took him a second to realize Chakotay was waiting.

“Well, Paris?”

He blinked, the unvoiced idea hitting the pit of his stomach like thunder.

Chakotay couldn't possibly mean it. No woman would let herself be treated like that. At least not her.

And yet, there she was, not saying a word, and he couldn't deny it was so very, very tempting. Something even his wildest fantasies hadn't conjured up before.

Spellbound, his legs were moving on their own accord, anchoring himself in front of her, despite the sane part of his mind shouting out its weakening reluctance at the vulgarity of it.

His fingers sneaked to the back of her neck and twined into her hair as he nudged his tip against her lips. Fisting her hair tighter until she drew in a sharp breath, enabling him to push his cock past those lips and into her warm mouth.

An insane rush of arousal had him gasping, crouching over her, uttering his amazement in broken syllables. Ready to lose it then and there.

"Make no mistake, Paris," Chakotay's voice came as a warning. "She's in full charge. You do anything she doesn't like and, well, just remember she's got her teeth around you.” He wasn't smiling anymore.

Somehow, it was easy to believe every word.

Chakotay stroked her arched back lightly, almost tenderly, tracing the line of her spine and the delicate curve of her waist, making her wait for the inevitable. Then he grabbed her hips with both hands.

"Now hold on, Captain," he said, digging his fingers into her soft flesh and slammed into her with his full force.

The cry from her throat vibrated along his length in the most exquisite way, dragging out a stream of grunts and curses from him. And when she swallowed to ready herself for another attack from behind, her mouth wrapped tightly around his shaft.

Light-headed and gulping, he knew he wouldn't have to move at all to come undone. But it was impossible not to.

There was something hypnotic in sharing her with him. Witnessing him so greedily use her for his own pleasure, her body shaking helplessly with each sharp thrust.

At the same time, having the luxury of plunging into her sweet mouth, hearing her muffled moans instead of the usual orders he followed without question. Holding her head to his groin, watching himself disappear inside her again and again, solely for his own satisfaction.

Eventually, he gave up even trying to be cautious, but savored the feel of pushing in deeper and harder, trusting that she would be strong enough to take it or stop it if she wasn't.

Recognizing the moment when Chakotay was reaching his peak was easy, delaying his own was another thing. But somehow it was crucial, an absolute highlight, to finish this savage scene of lust together.

Teetering, he waited for his signal, and when it finally came as a hoarse version of his name, his release was instant, shooting down her throat, crying out with the final erratic thrusts.

It was a blinding flash of ecstasy that left him feeling guilty even in the midst of his orgasm. He had no idea how to deal with it.

Attempting to regain his composure, he tucked his fading erection back into his pants and, somewhat awkwardly, offered his hand to help her up to her feet. She swiped it away and stumbled up on her own. Chakotay just withdrew into the shadows, looking like he'd lost all interest in her.

Try as he might, he could not comprehend either one of them. He was at a loss and the bliss was quickly beginning to give way to a gnawing regret for ever giving in to this urge, no matter how easy the opportunity or how strong the pull had been.

She seemed exhausted, like she'd been taking something like this for hours, but the slap across his face still held strength in it.

"That's for coming into your captain's mouth without warning." It was harsh, but she didn't look like it really bothered her. If anything, it sounded like an approval.

Wiping herself with a shirt tossed on the floor, she called the computer to remove the armchair and replace it with the captain's command chair and threw herself into it.

He rubbed his cheek where her palm had struck, his body pulsing with the aftermath, his thoughts in turmoil, struggling to cope with what they'd done.

What he'd done.

Why she would succumb to such an exploitation was beyond his comprehension. What she got out of it, he couldn't begin to fathom.

Nevertheless, for him, it had been a fantasy fulfilled tenfold and somehow he needed to express this to her, acknowledge the overwhelming rush of pleasure she'd given.

His eyes fixated on her, the center of this reality, and he sank to the floor.

The sight of her was surreal. In the spotlight, surrounded by darkness, on her throne. Devastatingly beautiful, achingly desirable, like the goddess she'd always been to him. Only now, by some undefined twist of fate, within his reach in flesh and blood, to worship with everything he had.

He found no words to describe his turbulent emotions, but he knew without a doubt that it didn't matter, because she had already seen them, flickering on his face.

At the heart of it lay a profound certainty that if there was anything he could give her, anything at all she would accept from him, at this moment or ever, he would do everything to make it happen.

She observed him in silence, watching as he played through his inner struggle, adapting to the change in his perspectives. When he finally came to a conclusion, her lips melted into a crooked smile, her lids heavy with lust.

Parting her legs ever so slightly wasn't a question, but an offering, and he took it with gratitude, crawling closer until he was at her feet.

Despite their previous encounter, it still felt somehow inappropriate to touch her, maybe even more so now, remembering how he'd treated her, and he kept his head down.

Tentatively, he placed his hands on her feet. They were so small, the bones in her ankles so thin. But as he worked his way along her lean legs, he could feel the firm muscles of her calves and the strength in her thighs, recognizing a force able to strangle a man if needed.

He trailed his lips slowly up her inner thigh, nibbling the silky skin and blowing air on her sensitive flesh. A shiver of delight moved through her, muscles tensing with expectation, and he glanced at her face to see her eyes had gained a heated glimmer.

Encouraged by her response, he pushed her legs wider apart, baring all of her to his view, and with her content, soft sigh echoing in his ears, brought his mouth to her wet heat.

She tasted sweet and salty, the essence of him and her mixed into a combination of power over him and he licked her clean. Drawing his tongue along her swollen folds and dipping between, shallow and teasing at first, feeling her shudder at the sensations.

Her whole body was relaxing under his attention, welcoming his gentle touch, one that didn't hurt or humiliate, and he was grateful he could be the one to offer it to her. Taking his time to build up her arousal, determined to give her a piece of heaven.

One leg lifted over the armrest, the other draped around his neck, she inched towards the edge of her chair. Keeping his mouth close she was steering him without words to exactly where she needed, and eventually, urging him to go harder on her.

Sucking her clit with intensifying pulses, flicking his tongue faster and plunging his fingers deeper into her, her moans did grow louder, her head dropping back in rapture. But despite his efforts and his deepest wishes, it didn't seem to be enough for her to come.

From the darkness, Chakotay's large hands came around her from behind, sliding over her creamy skin. They looked so coarse cupping her breasts, but she arched to meet his caress and voiced her relief at the heightened pleasure.

“She's the most precious thing on board this ship, Paris. To each and everyone. I'd do anything for her,” he said as he pinched and pulled her nipples and she cried out sharply at the pain.

It sounded almost like a confession of love, but accompanied with his rough handling, it didn't match.

Then his hands trailed up and wrapped around her slender neck, looking like he could snap that vulnerability without effort. He seemed to be searching for a specific point, and just when he found it, the realization of what Chakotay was doing hit him.

With growing horror, he watched as those dark, crude fingers pressed down on the sides of her throat, slow and sure. Her breathing turned thin and laborious, her body tensed and stilled. But she didn't try to get away.

She clutched his hair tightly, pulling his mouth firmly on her, and he saw Chakotay leaning down to kiss her lips, blocking the flow of air to her lungs.

Each second that followed felt like an eternity. The dreadful silence stretching, only her increasing trembling signifying that she was still living, though not breathing. And he sucked her harder, dived in deeper, to provide her with the intensity she seemed to need.

Her climax came fast and violent, ripping through her with uncontrollable spasms as they held her in place, completed with desperate gasps of air as Chakotay released her.

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, he accepted what he had already learned.

This woman was a total mystery to him.

The captain everyone respected and followed, the distant and composed leader of their small community, was someone else entirely. Only one side of her, when he had thought it was everything she was.

Chakotay, on the other hand, seemed to know this passionate woman thoroughly. All her secrets, all her desires. And his precision in fulfilling her unspoken needs was a true miracle.

Giving her tender flesh the last soothing lick, he pulled away. Rock hard again, aroused beyond reason by another scene of raw lust. Replaying in his mind as he remained on his knees, bereft of arrogance or ego, settling for the certainty that she would tell him if he was needed.

She stayed silent for a long time. Eyes closed with a euphoric smile on her face, leaning back in her command chair, arms thrown behind her head, legs spread out in front of her. Letting her breathing even out as she was floating on the waves of her high.

“Computer, add helm station,” her husky voice broke the quiet.

The console shimmered into existence, another beam of light aimed at it and he was on full alert again.

She wasn't done with him. There would be more. The thought was intoxicating, making his stomach flutter and heart thunder with anticipation.

"Mr. Paris, if you may?" Her tone was languid and seductive, but she had a firm plan, he was sure of it. "Take off your clothes and sit down."

Up to this point, his uniform had stayed on and it had been a comforting distance, having walked into a situation he was absolutely unprepared for.

Now, her order made him a full participant in this decadent play of desire and power, and the uncertainty of his role in it made him anxious.

He wasn't self-conscious about his body, he knew he looked good enough. But stripping for his commanding officers was disturbing, to say the least, and his usual cockiness and graceful self-assurance crumbled into embarrassed stumbling.

She didn't seem to mind.

"Tom, I want you to look at me and touch yourself. Let me see how you like it."

The natural order of things seemed to be restored. She was telling him what to do and he followed with delight.

Closing his hand around his hardness he stared as she stood up, so beautiful and so confident, exposing all of her naked glory under the bright light, allowing him time to admire the view.

She watched him just as intently as he began pumping his shaft, steady and smooth, just like he'd so many times dreamed of pushing into her body, on the bridge, in the lift, over the pool table at Sandrine's.

As she walked towards him, hips swaying and breasts bouncing, smiling fully aware of the impact she would have on him, he was sure he would never be able to look at her without remembering this.

How did he ever think she would be weak without her uniform and pips of a captain? How could he misinterpret this setting so badly?

She could never be anything less than she had always been, above everyone else in every measure. Only more powerful now, with the full arsenal of feminine weaponry at her disposal. Aimed at him.

She straddled his lap thighs wide, grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, scraping her teeth along his neck before biting down on his lobe. "You don't come until I say so, understood?"

There was nothing left of her weary submissiveness and obedience as she guided his tip to her entrance and sank down hard with a hiss between her teeth. Slick and hot, her inner walls stretching, molding around him.

It was all he could think about. Being inside her and straining to give her what she wanted, convinced he would rather die than let her down.

She began with a slow rocking, enjoying the novel feel of him, varying her tempo and angle, finding out what pleased her most with him. Closing her eyes as her breathing deepened, sinking into her own pleasure.

Taking advantage of an opportunity he was certain would never repeat itself, he began a shameless journey. Sliding his hands down from her slim waist and grabbing her perfect, round ass. Pushing his hips up to meet her thrusts. Roaming all over her gorgeous curves, stroking and feeling her everywhere he could reach, until settling onto his favorite part.

With trembling fingers, he cupped her breasts and weighed them in his palms, sighing as he squeezed their softness. And when he finally took one rosy nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak and sucking it deeper into his mouth, he felt like sobbing.

His mind was still swimming with heated images of their joining when he noticed the change in her pace, slowing down.

She'd been prolonging her climax and now she was panting with effort as she worked on him, the flames in her eyes more of frustration than passion.

His attempts to help her made no difference. Her strength had been depleted so many times already that there was no more to draw from and her orgasm kept fleeing from her.

"Chakotay," she called, her voice pleading, "I can't... I need you.”

Before she even finished, Chakotay had emerged from the shadows. Startling him out of the illusion of being alone with her.

He flinched and removed his hands from her body like she suddenly burned him, out of a guilt he couldn't quite find a reason for, blushing up to his ears.

Chakotay must've been only a few steps away. Witnessing every tongue mingling kiss and each frenzied groan. His fingers pressing into her skin and groping her with greed. Her relentless pounding on his cock and all the wet sounds of their coupling. Oh god.

What did he think about while looking at them, tangled together like this? How did it feel to watch her taking pleasure from another man?

What kind of a man would willingly share his woman anyway?

Because she did belong to Chakotay, in more ways than one, that much he was sure of, although that fact was obscured by this strange power play, making it hard to detect all the complicated currents coiling beneath the obvious.

"Paris, stay inside her and stand up," his deep voice guided, surprisingly calm and gentle.

Hearing those words taking command, all remaining strength fled from her and, all of a sudden, she seemed very frail.

She curled her arms and legs around him and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Relinquishing control, allowing them full reign over her, trusting them to fulfill her needs.

The shift distracted him thoroughly. And he recognized another kind of emotion stirring in his chest, one that didn't fit in this carnal act, one he wasn't prepared to handle.

As Chakotay took half of her weight into his arms, she seemed light as a feather. To be maneuvered any which way for their satisfaction.

Or to be protected and cared for, like something sacred.

He could feel Chakotay probing her, spreading her slickness, and slowly, beginning to push between her cheeks.

Up close, he saw how her eyes widened and mouth dropped open, her face distorting with a pain infused pleasure, then flushing with extreme arousal, her body tensing, then relaxing into theirs. Close to coming instantly.

His own arousal echoed hers, spiking in response to her moans and quickened panting, her inner muscles contracting, attempting to accommodate both of them. His groin pulsing and demanding, aching to explode.

It was a storm of sensations raging in and around him. Her warm, soft body nestled against his. Chakotay moving with only a thin layer of flesh between them. The space within her that much tighter with their simultaneous invasion. The musky scent of sex filling his nostrils. The joint breathing and pulses of three.

There was no way he could stop the choked groans from his throat, the constant shaking of his legs, and the sweat forming on his forehead, every inch of him straining not to lose it just yet.

So ashamed of his need, his inability to hide his lust in front of Chakotay.

Dark eyes met his blue ones over her shoulder. But there was no judgment, no resentment. Only empathy and a calm acceptance of a state of affairs he was powerless to change. And the expression on Chakotay's face was the answer to his every unspoken question.

He would do anything for her, the woman he loved more than life itself.

They held her tightly in place, securely between them, and as they began to move, weak whimpers were the only sounds she could produce. Chakotay bent to her neck and he mirrored the action, sucking her skin in a rhythm matching their unhurried thrusts.

The way she quivered continuously, her eyes glazed over, lost in the overwhelming pleasure rippling through her from head to toe, it seemed like she wasn't in this world. And her climax, when it came, was like the last burst of her life force, an inferno finding momentary peace.

Chakotay didn't come, he noticed, but was solely concentrating on her.

For him, the experience was too intense, too close to perfection.

As the first waves of her release shot through her, clamping her inner muscles around him, milking him, pulling him over the edge with her, he let himself spill. Spasming and shuddering in relief with only a vague awareness that right then, he'd called her Kathryn.

She was almost unconscious when they let her down, her legs refusing to support her any longer. Spent and depleted, of energy and spirit.

Chakotay was there for her, as he always was, lifting her into his arms, pressing her to his chest. Cradling her weak form and brushing the sweaty tresses from her temples, murmuring softly into her ear. Drifting into a bubble of their own.

Remembering his presence, Chakotay turned to him once more, his whole appearance stripped of pride or pretense.

"Thank you, Tom," he said quietly, the words too plain for the context, but the undertone revealing enough.

A desperate affection for the woman he held close to his heart, and a frail hope for something more, someday.

He didn't know how to respond.

Walking away, Chakotay called the computer for a bed and placed her motionless form gently on it. Every move was smooth and practiced like they'd been repeated numerous times.

The beams lighting the command center vanished and he was left alone in the shadows. It was his cue to leave, but he couldn't stop staring at them.

He watched as Chakotay laid down behind her small, pale body, wrapped himself around her and caressed her all over, whispering into her hair secrets meant only for her, soothing and healing with a tenderness she probably didn't even register anymore.

As he moved further away into the darkness and called for the exit, he couldn't help but wonder.

What this arrangement meant to her.

Whether she recognized the love in his eyes.

And was she aware of that same emotion, so easily seen in hers.


End file.
